170.  Results of the Murder.

The crime sent a thrill of horror throughout the realm.  The Pope proclaimed Becket a saint with the title of Saint Thomas.  The mass of the English people looked upon the dead ecclesiastic as a martyr who had died in the defense of the Church, and of all those—­but especially the laboring classes and the poor—­around whom the Church cast its protecting power.

The great cathedral of Canterbury was hung in mourning; Becket’s shrine became the most famous in England.  The stone pavement, and the steps leading to it, still show by their deep-worn hollows where thousands of pilgrims coming from all parts of the kingdom, and from the Continent even, used to creep on their knees to the saint’s tomb to pray for his intercession.

Henry himself was so far vanquished by the reaction in Becket’s favor, that he gave up any further attempt to formally enforce the Constitutions of Clarendon (S165), by which he had hoped to establish a uniform system of administration of justice.  But the attempt, though baffled, was not wholly lost; like seed buried in the soil, it sprang up and bore good fruit in later generations.  However, it was not until near the close of the reign of George III (1813) that the civil courts fully and finally prevailed.

171.  The King makes his Will; Civil War.

Some years after the murder, the King bequeathed England and Normandy (SS108, 159) to Prince Henry.[1] He at the same time provided for his sons Geoffrey and Richard.  To John, the youngest of the brothers, he gave no territory, but requested Henry to grant him several castles, which the latter refused to do.  “It is our fate,” said one of the sons, “that none should love the rest; that is the only inheritance which will never be taken from us.”

[1] After his coronation Prince Henry had the title of Henry III; but as he died before his father, he never properly became king in his own right.

It may be that that legacy of hatred was the result of Henry’s unwise marriage with Eleanor, an able but perverse woman, or it may have sprung from her jealousy of “Fair Rosamond” and other favorites of the King.[1] Eventually this feeling burst out into civil war.  Brother fought against brother, and Eleanor, conspiring with the King of France, turned against her husband.

[1] “Fair Rosamond” [Rosa mundi, the Rose of the world (as THEN interpreted)] was the daughter of Lord Clifford.  According to tradition the King formed an attachment for this lady before his unfortunate marriage with Eleanor, and constructed a place of concealment for her in a forest in Woodstock, near Oxford.  Some accounts report that Queen Eleanor discovered her rival and put her to death.  She was buried in the nunnery of Godstow near by.  When Henry’s son John became King, he raised a monument to her memory with the inscription in Latin: 
                “This tomb doth here enclose
                 The world’s most beauteous Rose—­
                 Rose passing sweet erewhile,
                 Now naught but odor vile.”